


This Won't Hurt a Bit: Seductive Reveries of a Night Nurse

by hiza-chan (callunavulgari)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hospitals, M/M, Nurses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-27
Updated: 2012-04-27
Packaged: 2017-11-04 09:55:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callunavulgari/pseuds/hiza-chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Roxas is a bored night nurse and Axel is a dancer at an erotic fire show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Won't Hurt a Bit: Seductive Reveries of a Night Nurse

**Author's Note:**

> This actually strikes several things off my list of things to do! First, it's a fill for rudy_flamthrowa's prompt over at my Harlequin meme. Second, hey, hey, it's AkuRoku daaaaaay! And this is their present. And third, it crosses off my Hospital square for my AU Bingo card. So three birds, one stone, FUCK YEAH. This is otherwise known as that one fic that Heather scrambled to write cause she realized it was AkuRoku Day. Also, I feel the need to point out that I know jack shit about hospitals and haven't been in one since I almost died of dehydration when I was five. So uh, don't remember much. They're probably busier than this but WHAT THE FUCK EVER CREATIVE LICENSE IS MY BITCH.

He's the only nurse on the clock that night. Now, normally, this would be a problem. See, hospitals have these nasty little things called _protocols_ and Roxas is sure that the fact that there's only one night nurse on his floor is something that's you know, not good. And probably not legal. But Kairi and Namine had both called in sick (the one disadvantage to having twin sisters employed: they always seemed to get sick at the same time) and Riku had the day off.  
  
He's not really sure where Demyx is, but judging by the noises emanating from behind Door 136 in the Psych Ward, he's not sure he wants to investigate. (Rumor has it that the patient Demyx is shacking up with is truly batshit anyway. Thinks he's a werewolf or some shit like that. Spends a lot of time staring at the moon and talking about hearts.)  
  
It's 3 o'clock in the morning and his floor has been pretty quiet for a couple weeks now. There's just something about early October that makes people not want to have accidents with fire. Gone were the barbecue mishaps of summer and the cherry bomb explosions of Back-to-School August, and it's still too early for Halloween pranks gone awry and _way_ too early for problems with the Turkey.  
  
That isn't to say that there isn't the occasional car accident or burning house, but mostly those patients are rushed to the ER. So Roxas is bored, and his only company is the kid in Room 234, who still smells faintly of gasoline and grins disconcertingly whenever Roxas walks into the room. And well, the kid freaks him out.  
  
So as luck would have it, he's lounging against the door to the Break Room, a cup of coffee in one hand and a cheap paperback in the other when Axel comes in.  
  
At first, Roxas just eyes him incredulously from halfway down the hallway, because well, the guy looks a little... he's not sure he has a word for it. Unhinged, dangerous, potentially crazy all sound great, but not _quite_ the word he's looking for. He's got a mess of blood colored spikes masquerading as hair, not at all like Roxas' freshly rumpled just rolled out of bed spikes, but _actual_ spikes. Like he'd just gotten back from a truly epic MSI concert and had forgotten to wash the gel out. The guys wanders closer. Correction, that he'd forgotten to wash the gel out for _days_.  
  
Roxas squints. Some of the spikes are _singed_ around the edges. And now that Roxas sees them, he can smell it- the faint smell of burning hair and burning cloth. The man's clothing is still intact; the jeans whole but soot stained, simple band t-shirt only as ratty as it had been made to look (and hah, maybe he _was_ at an MSI concert if he's wearing their merchandise). His bubblegum pink All Stars look a little bit worse for wear, but only because the guy has probably had them since ninth grade. But the scent of scorched cloth clings to him like a cloak. Idly, Roxas wonders if maybe he should back away before the guy spots him. He marks his page and shuts his book without taking his eyes off the crazy guy.  
  
Right on cue, green eyes swing round and lock with his. They brighten. Ah, well. Too late for running away anyway.  
  
The guy begins walking towards him, and Roxas is interested to note that he's walking gingerly, like he's favoring a leg or a knee- or god forbid, like he's been having a night of really fantastic sex. Roxas shakes his head, plucking at some lint that's clinging to sea-green fabric. The scrubs are comfy as all hell, but they sure pick things up easily. He wonders if maybe he should be walking to meet the man. After all, that's what Kairi and Namine would be doing, sashaying out to meet the guy so they could coo at whatever misfortune had befallen him at his pitiful rock concert. The image of himself sashaying _anywhere_ stops him in his tracks before he can move. Too bad, the guy will just have to come to him. And anyway, watching the guy walk is kind of darkly amusing to some twistedly sadistic part of his brain.  
  
Up close, the smell of burning is even worse, and he snorts-  
  
"Jeez, did you just crawl in from a fire fetish show, or what?" the words come out before he can catch them, and he winces, because he should really probably get a handle on this brain to mouth thing before it gets him fired. But the guy just grins at him, eyes fever bright with something that's probably either drugs or alcohol. He's not tracking things with his eyes, so that rules out Hallucinogens, and he'd walked over okay enough, so it's probably just pot. Roxas subtly drags his eyes down along his form, and nope, no track marks marring the pale inside of his arm, no irritation of the nostrils- so yes, probably weed. Roxas thinks that he'd probably be able to smell the grass on him if the burnt smell wasn't so overpowering.  
  
He brings his gaze back up and finds that the guys still grinning at him, but now there's something else in his expression, something leering and faintly predatory. He flushes when he realizes what his drug check had probably looked like to the guy. Little blond nurse, all alone and checking out the patients, not good.  
  
But the guy just huffs out a laugh that's part giggle, part braying _laugh_. The real kind, where you clutch your stomach and giggle yourself sick. Roxas watches him and wonders if he should call security. Before he can make up his mind, the guy's looking back up, his eyes wet and his smile so wide that the tattoos on his cheeks are crinkling.  
  
"Maybe," he grins, dragging his hands down his neck, over his clavicles, ghosting whisper soft over his ribcage and over his belly until he can hook his fingers in his beltloops. Roxas follows the movement, mesmerized. The move looks practiced, something that a stripper would use on the pole, not a random stranger standing around in a hospital hallway at 3 in the morning. His mouth goes dry and the stranger's grin widens even further, smile turning wicked and teasing. He leans closer. "Want a private show, blondie?" he whispers, breath hot against the shell of Roxas' ear.  
  
Roxas shudders, starts to take a half step back before he realizes that he's effectively pinned to the door. There's heat pooling in his belly and his cock is starting to stir inside his ridiculously thin hospital scrubs that _show everything_.  
  
He's having a minor meltdown in his head, trying to remind his cock that this guy looks like a metalhead and smells like a bonfire, _anything to get it disinterested_ , when the stranger pulls away. The grin's still there, but it's smaller now, the grin of someone you'd see on the streets and no longer the grin of someone who makes their living by taking off their clothes.  
  
The guy huffs a half laugh, and even though he's moved back, Roxas can still feel the air around his lips stir. His breath smells like cherries. It's a startling contrast to the rest of him.  
  
"Okay, all kidding aside, kid. I am actually here for a reason."  
  
The redhead cocks his hip to the side, palm flat on his hip and Roxas is once again reminded of hookers. Now he just needs to start shouting derogatory things about what he's going to do to Roxas' cock and the image will be complete. Roxas clears his throat, pushes off the door. Tries to clear his mind. The files are down the halls, and from the looks of this guy, he's probably got a previous record here. He flicks a look at the guy from the corner of his eye. Good, he's following him. "Name?" he asks, trying to sound bored and not at all like his cock had been ready to dive headfirst into the other guys pants a couple seconds ago.  
  
From the laugh the guy sends his way, Roxas guesses that he probably hadn't managed to hide the huskiness from his voice completely.  
  
"Axel," the guy says, and Roxas can hear the smile in his voice. Roxas looks at him out of the corner of his eye, because the guy is hesitating, looks like he's about to start giggling again. Roxas turns to face him and raises a brow, inquiringly. The guy's hesitance fades away, and the easygoing laughter starts back up. "-Got it memorized?" he finishes, and Roxas rolls his eyes, resuming his previous pace. To think he'd stopped to have _that_ clarified.  
  
"Flurry of the Dancing Flames, Got it Memorized?" Axel says again, and Roxas doesn't even look back this time, cause he has no idea what the other man is talking about.  
  
They finally reach the room with the files, and Roxas fidgets for a minute, because there's _protocol_ and patients aren't exactly allowed in this room, but he _really_ doesn't think that Axel would wait in the hallway anyway. Finally, he opens the door, holds it open for Axel and beckons him in with a wave of his arm. It's a grand gesture, sarcastic, something that should be accompanied by a _This way, your Highness,_ or a _My Lord, your carriage awaits_. It makes Axel laugh again, and his appallingly pink converse's squeak loudly against the floor as he ducks into the room.  
  
"It's my stage name," Axel is saying, his tone amused and a finger tapping against his lip as he contemplates Row F in the dim light of the room. "Flurry of the Dancing Flames, that is. Got it Memorized is something of my catchphrase." Roxas stops where he's pulling the door shut, just _staring_ at him because _what the fuck, he hadn't actually been serious_ -  
  
Axel grins at him in the dark, his smile something wicked and curling. It makes something else curl in Roxas' gut unexpectedly, and Roxas shudders and moves down the rows. Stops. Berates himself inside his head. "Your last name, Mister Flurry?" he asks, and it feels like flirting when Axel grins at him and says "Cummings", his voice shivery sweet with laughter.  
  
Roxas almost laughs, and then realizes that Axel's actually being serious. "You have _got_ to be kidding me. There is no way that there's a stripper out there with a real name like Axel Cummings."  
  
But Axel just keeps on grinning, stroking one pale finger down "Falman, Maria"'s folder. Roxas watches the finger, wonders what it would feel like with his lips wrapped around it, turning it a gleaming wet so Axel could grin at him, whispering filthy words in his ear as he pushes one of those slim fingers _in-_  
  
There's heat creeping up his neck and his dick's perking up again. He turns away to head over to the C aisle. "Fucking weird, man," he mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes. His voice is a little shaky.  
  
And there it is. One "Cummings, Axel" written in small, precise letters and marked with a red tab. The file is at least three times as full as its surrounding files. He stares at Axel, who just contemplates "Connors, Michael" with a 'profound' look in his eye. The serious expression is strange and Roxas has to fight back an impulse to reach over and stretch his lips back into that court jester grin. But then Axel's looking back at him again, his lips twitching to fight back the smile.  
  
Roxas wonders if it hurts. To smile that much.  
  
"Of course, with a name like that I wanted to just use my real one," Axel says, beginning to pull the folder from the shelf. He pouts, lips drawing down, eyes going wide and shit, he's too good at looking angelic. He starts to open the file. "They insisted on the stage name thou-"  
  
Axel's skin is warm. Surprising considering it's pallor. Axel is staring at him, brows arched and eyes surprised. Roxas lets go of his arm like it burned him.  
  
"You're um, not allowed to open that. Confidentiality and stuff." He doesn't mention the fact that technically, Axel's not even supposed to _be in here_. He distracts himself by drawing out Axel's file and opening it to the first page, a cherry bomb accident when Axel was thirteen. Well, well, apparently the guy has something in common with the little fuckers who always ruin his August.  
  
"So Axel, do I have to bother weighing you and taking your blood pressure or can you just tell me why you're here?" he asks, maybe with just a hint more hostility than a few seconds ago. He _really_ hates kids who play with cherry bombs.  
  
Axel's face turns cherry red in the dim light, and Roxas watches with fascination as the line of his hair and forehead blur together.  
  
"Uh, well. Remember how you asked if I just came from a Fire Fetish Show?" and he's grinning sheepishly, tucking his hands into his back pockets and shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot and-  
  
Oh. _Oh_ , that is priceless.  
  
Axel looks a bit affronted at first when Roxas doubles over in laughter, and then reluctantly joins in, his laughter open and honest and fuck, it takes a lot of balls to laugh at yourself.  
  
After a minute, Roxas uncurls, brushes the excess wetness from his eyes. "I thought you guys were supposed to be able to handle that shit _without_ burning yourself," he says, still a bit breathless with laughter. A couple sheets slide out of Axel's file, dejectedly fluttering to the floor. Before Axel can respond, Roxas turns to face him. "So let's see it then, where's this burn of yours?"  
  
If anything, Axel turns even redder. He murmurs something under his breath and looks anywhere but Roxas' face.  
  
Roxas grins. "What, sorry? Didn't quite catch that?"  
  
Axel looks up, flush still across his cheeks and there's a hint of humiliation in his eyes when he says, quite clearly, "I _said_ that my pants would have to come off for you to _see_ it."  
  
Oh. Wow. Well-  
  
"Now, that's a pick up line I've never heard before," he deadpans, bending a bit so he can scribble made up blood pressure stats onto Axel's sheet against his knee. He looks back up, and knows that his expression is too sultry, too open, too _flirty_ \- that he should go and pull Demyx out of The Berserker's room before he even thinks about inspecting this burn. That he should take Axel to an exam room, get some gloves and antiseptic and be completely professional about this. That he shouldn't be thinking about dropping to his knees and sucking Axel's cock while he's pressed up against the D files. But really, he doesn't give a shit.  
  
Though- an exam room does sound like a good idea. His smile widens, and he knows from the way Axel's eyes go round and startled that it's a smile dark with promise, a smile that says in so few words that it's taking all his will power to not just shove Axel back and fuck him into the wall. He turns back towards the door, opening it and walking across the hallway and into an exam room at random. He hopes Axel's following.  
  
The minute the door shuts he's looking around the room, digging through the cabinet for antiseptic and _something_ that could serve as lube. The door opens and shuts again and Roxas watches Axel walk in out of the corner of his eye. He looks both a little bit wary and, judging by the state of the front of his jeans, incredibly turned on. _Shit, if the burn's on his dick, Roxas is going to kill him._ He grins and plucks a bottle from the cabinets, then schools his features into something vaguely professional before he turns around to face him.  
  
He smiles a bit, a polite nurse smile, and gestures Axel over to the exam table. Axel strides over to it, his shoes squeaking again on the linoleum. His cheeks are still bright red. He leans against it, hips resting comfortably against the crinkly paper that lines the table.  
  
Roxas keeps smiling that polite nurse's smile, and says, "Now Axel, I'd like you to take off your pants."  
  
Axel shudders, and his fingers move to the buttons of his jeans. Roxas is just beginning to congratulate himself for successively turning the tables when Axel's fingers stop trembling- when that suggestive grin replaces the wary look on Axel's face. His professional face quivers, not quite breaking, but he'd forgotten that while his version of professional was polite nurse smiles and happy go lucky assurances that _yes sir, it looks fine. No sir, I promise you aren't deformed_ , Axel's version of professional was something just a little bit different.  
  
Axel lowers the zipper slowly, and the sound is like a thunderclap in the quiet of the hospital. His grin is playful and teasing, the way it had been when he'd come in, when he'd had Roxas pressed up against the door and helplessly turned on.  
  
And he does know how to put on a show, pale hands everywhere, stroking down his thighs as he shimmies out of his jeans, lets them pool on the hospital floor and oh- oh, it figures that if he'd just come from a show he wouldn't exactly be wearing boxers under there, but it still surprises Roxas when his cock is revealed, flushed and dark against Axel's belly. And then he's bending over to unlace his shoes and toe them and his socks off, and it shouldn't be sexy, should look ridiculous, his shirt still on and his pants lying on the ground- bending over bareassed to unlace his dumb pink shoes, but somehow, it's still unbearably hot. Mostly, Roxas figures it's because for someone so skinny, Axel's ass is _perfect_ \- his hips glorious and made for Roxas' fingers. He wants to grip those hips, wants to dig his fingers in until the skin bruises, until he has to go to work the next day and all of his customers will see the bruises, will know that he got fucked out of his mind the night before-  
  
He shivers and palms his cock through his scrubs with one hand and then Axel's turning to face him, his thighs slipping open as he slides up onto the exam table, his pupils so blown that they're nearly black. Roxas takes a step forward, mouth dry and already reaching for Axel's cock when Axel grins, points at something on his thigh.  
  
Oh _shit_ , he'd forgotten about the burn. And there _is_ a burn, red and irritated starting at the top of Axel's right thigh and ending just inside, just a few inches from where course, dark hair starts. Roxas winces in sympathy, and for a moment he forgets that he's absolutely starved for this man's cock, he's just a nurse in charge of another victim with a burn. He's spreading ointment across the burn before he's even realized that he's opened the jar, fingers spreading the goop over the tops of his thigh, down to rub it into the inside of Axel's thigh. His knuckles brush against Axel's cock, smearing precome across them to mix with the ointment and the other man groans, hips bucking off the table.  
  
And just like that the hunger's back- burn all but forgotten and shit, it's not like the burn's that bad anyway. It'll be painful, but luckily, it won't scar. He feels a twinge of annoyance at whatever fuckup had the nerve to trace fire across Axel's body without knowing how to handle it, and thinks that newbies should never be able to handle the fire because _fuck, this has completely ruined his plan of riding Axel until he's whimpering_ -  
  
Axel groans again when Roxas wraps a hand around his cock, bucking up off the table and into his grip, whimpering something about idiots and fire and a long chant of _fuckmefuckmefuckmepleaseRoxasohgodputitinme_.  
  
"Fuck," Roxas hisses, taking his hand off Axel long enough to fumble the jar of Vaseline open while Axel gasps and writhes beneath him, hand snaking down to jerk at his cock messily, no rhythm, no finesse, just a desperate kind of want. Roxas curses again when Axel whines high in his throat, hips bucking and sweat beading on his forehead and Roxas has to whimper _no, no, wait, slow down, wait for me-_ because otherwise Axel's going to come before Roxas can get the fucking jar open.  
  
And then the lid comes loose and he's sliding two slicked fingers into Axel, and fuck, he's tight and hot- whining and clenching around him. Axel tosses his head a bit, slides a hand into his gelled hair and _whimpers_ , fucking down onto Roxas' fingers and panting _more, more Roxas, give me more. Please._  
  
When he's got four fingers inside Axel and the other man's still not reacting in any way but whining like a whore and fucking himself with Roxas' fingers he finally figures that Axel probably would have been ready after two.  
  
He boosts himself up onto the table, and Axel scoots back a little bit to make room for him, his head lolling back off the table and still whining and begging and _pleaseRoxasplease_ -  
  
Pushing into Axel is like a piece of Heaven. He's hot and tight, slick from the lube, clenching and unclenching around him- already shoving back onto Roxas' cock, impaling himself over and over again before Roxas' brain has gotten past the pleasure overload stage.  
  
From there, it's a blur of sweat and flesh and skin and filthy words and half-formed praises. Somehow, Axel winds up falling half off the exam table, the blood rushing to his head- but when Roxas tries to pull him back up, he just hooks his hands onto the table so he won't _actually_ fall, and shakes him off, somehow still managing to find the strength to fuck back onto Roxas' cock while most of him is upside down.  
  
Axel shouts a string of obscenity when he comes, spine arching the rest of the way off the table, and clenches down on Roxas, whimpering filthy things about nurses and exam tables, still fucking himself back onto him even as he comes all over his own face. And that's the end of it, one glimpse of Axel, still dangling upside down off the back of the exam table, red faced with his own come painting his lips and cheeks and Roxas is coming, slamming into Axel with one last frantic thrust before slipping out to lie his cheek against Axel's belly, exhausted and sticky and _so well fucked_.  
  
He huffs a laugh against the skin there, and Axel twitches, murmuring something about being ticklish and god, he's _still upside down_. "You can't fall asleep like that, you know," he smiles into Axel's hipbone, staring at where Axel's torso disappears over the edge of the table.  
  
"I know," Axel says back. He doesn't move.  
  
Roxas groans and hauls himself up and off Axel long enough to grab both of his wrists and pull. Axel's still redfaced and he's giggling a little bit, come drying across his cheekbones and over his eyelids. Roxas thinks that fucking him upside down had probably not been the best idea considering the weed still in his system. He smiles down at him and grins, uses his shirt to wipe the semen from Axel's face. Axel nuzzles into his hand.  
  
"Ya know, babe, you should really stop bothering me at work." he murmurs into the skin of Axel's neck, and Axel laughs. His fingers are slipping down his stomach, smearing his own come into his skin, just playing it. Roxas watches their descent with rapt eyes. They slip down through the puddles on his stomach, dip into his navel and come back out covered with the stuff. Axel brings his come stained fingers to his mouth, sucks them in like it's fucking ice cream and not his own jizz. Tiredly, Roxas' cock twitches.  
  
Axel shifts on the table, the paper crinkling under his ass. "Mmm, yanno you like it. You were complaining just the other night over pasta about how boring October always is." he yawns and his breath tickles Roxas' ear. His smile is sleepy and happy, his eyes shut. Somewhere outside, a siren whirs. His fingers resume their quest downwards. He hums, low in his throat and drags his nails through dark red curls. "Figured I'd spice up yer night," he slurs, voice low and just a little bit husky.  
  
Roxas punches him in the arm and Axel whimpers _Hey_ and grabs Roxas' arm with one hand. His other hand is idly tracing lazy circles over his spent cock. "You ass, you always play the stripper trying to get himself some hospital tail card, man. Why can't you ever be a hot fireman or some shit?"  
  
Axel glares blearily at him, traces a finger down, slips a hand between his thighs until he reaches his destination. He hisses when he slides a finger inside, looking fascinated by the wet, utterly _filthy_ sound of his finger moving around inside of himself. His voice is a little bit breathless when he speaks.  
  
"Duh, cause strippers are way better." As if that ends the argument. He grins down his chest at Roxas and wriggles his hips where their cocks are still pressed too close together. Roxas groans. "Plus, I have the credentials to back it up."  
  
Roxas snorts and cuddles closer, watches between Axel's spread thighs as some come trickles out, smearing against the ripped paper of the table. "How was your concert?" he asks, kissing the curve of Axel's cheek. The grin that breaks out across Axel's face is childishly wicked in its glee.  
  
"It was fuckin' _epic_ , Rox. You shoulda been there! Jimmy took off all his clothes during Tight and fake-fucked his guitarist with the microphone." he cackles, then chokes on a gasp as he slides another finger inside. Roxas grins and asks, "So how'd you really get the burn? Your show isn't til tomorrow night."  
  
At that, Axel stops for a minute, looking a little bit shifty. Roxas knows that particular look of guilt a little bit too well. "In my uh, enthusiasm I may have gotten too close to the torches and set my pants on fire." Roxas eyes the pants still laying across the floor. They don't look like they'd been set on fire recently. Axel smacks him weakly in the arm. "Not those, you dick. Someone lent me a pair."  
  
Roxas laughs, because that is just like Axel. Set himself on fire at a concert and then convince some random stranger to give him their pants. God, he doesn't know how he got saddled with such a pyrophilliac of a boyfriend, but it's sure entertaining sometimes. Between Axel's legs, his fingers start moving again, prodding and twisting- more come drizzling out of his hole. Roxas' mouth goes dry all over again.  
  
"So, you got my tickets for your show tomorrow?" he asks sleepily, and he should be getting up, should be cleaning them off because he really _is_ the only nurse on duty and someone _might_ come in, but he's too busy batting Axel's hands away from himself, sliding his own fingers into Axel's stretched hole. Feeling his own come slip sliding inside of Axel, and fuck, but he's still tight and hot around Roxas' fingers, like the come isn't there at all, like he hasn't just been fucked open.  
  
Axel's grin against his neck is just as sleepy, but his voice is rough with renewed interest. He twists a bit, and halfheartedly pushes back onto Roxas' fingers, gasping low and quiet, his cock faintly stirring between his legs. "Course babe, front row tickets and a guarantee that the dancer's gonna ask you to rub a little fire on him."  
  
Roxas smiles something that sounds like "Good." Axel murmurs his agreement. Roxas' fingers press deeper, spreading come and feeling the wet, slick, tightness- just a bit farther.  
  
Somewhere down the hall, a door opens, and Demyx's voice calls his name, still raspy after having a cock down his throat for a good portion of the night. Axel stirs against him as Demyx calls out again, groans in disappointment and squirms back on Roxas' fingers once more. "Duty calls?" he asks, nipping lightly at the line of Roxas' jaw.  
  
Roxas shakes his head, burrows farther into the heat of Axel's arms, presses just a bit more. "-e's been fuckin' his psycho werewolf all night, he can handle the shift by himself for a little while."  
  
But he doesn't think that Axel hears him, because just then Axel arches up off the exam table, shaking and trembling and just starting to whine again. His cock's half hard already, his thighs trembling. Roxas stifles laughter against his boyfriend's neck, grinds his own slowly awakening cock into Axel's thigh.  
  
And if Demyx accidentally walks in on them, well, it'll make up for the mental scarring he'd given Roxas the first time he'd gone missing in the middle of the night.  
  
Fucking werewolves.


End file.
